world.”
“I’ve heard of this concept.” She settled back on the pillows beside him, sipped her coffee. “I like it. It’s nice.”
“Yeah.” He draped an arm around her so they sat hip-to-hip. “It is.”
“Is everyone up?”
“No one’s up.”
She relaxed a little more. “Then I don’t have to feel guilty. It’s like a mini-vacation.”
“A morning vacation?”
“It works for me.”
The idea of it inspired another. “Why don’t we extend it? Want to go to a movie tonight?”
“Oh.” She angled her face up to his. “I’m closing tonight.”
“Tomorrow then.”
“Is there something you want to see?”
“We’ll find something.”
“No slasher flicks—or anything with monkeys.”
“I can work with that. Why don’t I pick you up about six? We’ll get something to eat first.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Yeah, he thought, it did. And as a next step, next move, not bad.
Thinking spring in the bitter entrance of February, Avery sat in the back of Hope’s car, using her phone to search for wedding dresses.
“I’m worried I left this too late.” Clare fretted in the front seat. “We should’ve done this before the holidays.”
“Plenty of time,” Hope assured her. “This is a wonderful boutique. And if you don’t find just what you want there, I have two more.”
“Not white. My dress shouldn’t be white.”
“Every bride’s entitled to white,” Hope corrected. “But more, every bride’s entitled to whatever color, whatever style, whatever wedding dress suits her. Don’t go into this with limitations.”
“We should’ve stuck with the idea of a small, family-only afternoon wedding. But—”
“Beckett hasn’t done this before.” While she searched and scrolled, Avery listed the reasons Clare had already laid out. “The boys are excited. You want something special and memorable for you and Beckett. You have the perfect venue with the inn. Need more?”
“No.” Clare glanced over her shoulder. “Have you found anything?”
“Sorry. I keep getting distracted by the big white dresses. I mean look at this. It’s art.”
She offered the screen to Clare. “Gorgeous for a first wedding, and one with an unlimited budget. God, look at that train, and the beadwork on the skirt. Miles of skirt.”
“I love it, but I could never pull that off.” Avery shook her head. “I’d drown in a dress that big.”
Hope flicked a glance in the rearview. “Is there something we should know?”
“I’m short?”
“About you and Owen—and wedding dresses.”
“About— No!” Avery took the phone back, gave the dress one last look, then scrolled on. “It’s knee-jerk for a woman to imagine herself in a wedding dress when in the wedding dress mode.”
“But things are good.” Clare shifted, angling back.
“Really good. We’re both crazy busy, but we’ve actually managed to go out a couple times. You know, to those places where other people bring you food that yet other people have cooked? Plus, I’m trying out potential MacT’s dishes on him. He’s a good test subject.”
“Still fluttering?” Hope asked her.
“Yeah, still fluttering. And now there’s this tugging. It’s good, but it’s a little unnerving.”
“I know,” Clare said with a smile.
“It’s not like you and Beckett.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s me and Owen, and we’re . . . I don’t know exactly. Anyway, today’s about you.”
“We have the whole day,” Clare reminded her.
“Which starts now.” Hope zipped into a parking spot. “That was lucky, and I’m taking it as a good omen. The boutique’s right there.”
“Oh, look at that dress!” Clare stared at the display window and the indulgence of the sparkling pick-up skirt, the shimmer of off-the- shoulder white silk. “It’s stunning, but way too formal and first-wedding. I don’t think this is the place. I don’t want—”
“Trust me.” Hope pulled out the ignition key.
Avery shoved open her door. “And even if you don’t, I’m not missing a chance to play in there.”
Before Clare could protest again, Avery jumped out of the car. She yanked open Clare’s door, pulled her friend out. “It’ll be fun.”
It was.
The shimmer and glow of whites, ivories, creams, yards of tulle, acres of beading. In her jeans and knee boots, Avery plopped a veil on her head, struck a pose.
She looked, she decided, like she had a tulle volcano on her head.
Then she whirled on Clare.
“Get away from those.”
The snap of the order had Clare snatching her fingers back. “But they’re nice, elegant suits.”
“You’re
“But—”
“Too sedate.” Along with Avery, Hope folded her arms. “Not a chance.”
“I’m not going formal or fussy. I want simple.”
“Then simple you shall have.” Avery nodded sagely. “The bride rules.”
“Then—”
“Except with those.”
“I really like the green one.”
“It’s lovely,” Hope agreed. “If you were going to someone else’s wedding, a ladies tea, a political fund- raiser.” With Avery, she flanked Clare, and marched her away.
“We should pick out your dresses first,” Clare suggested. “That’ll give me a springboard.”
“Get serious. Our dresses flow from yours, not the other way.” Still wearing the veil, Avery wandered into another section.
Initial suggestions were deemed too fussy, too white, too club-night.
“Oh, not pink.”
“It’s not pink-pink,” Avery insisted. “It’s soft. It’s more like a blush, and look at the hem.”
“I love it.” Lips pursed, Hope studied it. “The flow of that diagonal hem, should hit above the knee, go to just about midcalf.”
“I don’t know. I—”
“Okay, you’ve got to try some on. I’m making a rule. And this is one of the try-ons,” Avery decreed. “We’ll pick a few more, and snag a dressing room.”
“You’re right. You’re right, and I’m being a pain in the ass. That one, that one.” Clare included the one Hope held. “That one, and the green suit. I get to try on the green suit.”
“Fair. Take these.” Hope handed the dresses to Avery. “I’ll get the suit.”
Obviously noting some initial decisions had been made, a clerk set up a dressing room, hung the dresses, offered sparkling water.
Clare took the green suit first.
“Fine, get it over with.” Avery shrugged, drank some fizzy water with lemon.
“It’s got classic lines,” Clare insisted as she changed. “It’s a good color for me. And the weather’s iffy in
